Friends, Fluff, and Fictional Characters
by random.randomnesselfsandfun1
Summary: DUN DUN DUN. Experience the hectic, and fictional, life of random.randomnesselfandfun1 and TwilightDork as they walk through countless fictional characters lives, break plenty of vases, and potentially ruin shrinks lives. MWAH-AH-AH-AH. Random one-shots.
1. How do you feel about that?

**Hiya peoples! sweeteangel1 and TwilightDork here!**

**As you have probably noticed, this is, or soon will be, a bunch of random one-shots detailing us just doing 'us' things.**

**Involving flamethrowers and the CIA. Although we probably shouldn't mention that.....**

**As well, sweeteangel1 is actually going to be represented by sweeteangel1 because of annoying incidents involving TwilightDork's computer not willing to actually save under her actual name. SO.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**~sweeteangel1 and TwilightDork  
**

* * *

Chapter 1

How do you _feel _about that?

"Fae!" Said **TwilightDork**, trying to push **sweeteangel1** out the door.

"Re-BEC-_ca_!" wailed **sweeteangel****1**, who was gripping the doorjamb for dear life. "I don't wanna go!"

**TwilightDork** stopped her futile attempt to get **sweeteangel****1** out the door, and looked at her with her eyebrows raised. "You honestly think I _do_? You know I'm only going to this thing because Mike threatened to kick us out of our apartment if we didn't get our mental health checked. Otherwise, I would never go near one of those people. You know that. They're _way_ too freaky for me." **TwilightDork** shivered.

**sweeteangel****1** shivered as well, and seemed to contemplate **TwilightDork's** speech before sighing and begrudgingly letting go of the doorjamb. "Fine," she huffed, "I'll go, but I _won't_ be happy about it."

**TwilightDork** rolled her eyes and said "Puh-lease Fae, you know you'll cheer right up as soon as you start playing mind games with the poor shrink."

**sweeteangel****1** grinned evilly at this while her eyes got a malicious glow in them. "You're right Rebecca," she said, now skipping out of the apartment complex, "maybe this session won't be as bad as I thought it would be."

**TwilightDork** had to run to catch up to **sweeteangel****1**, but when she did, you could clearly see the mischief in her expression. "Think of all the blackmail...." she said wistfully, joining **sweeteangel****1** in her scheme.

**sweeteangel****1** gave **TwilightDork** a look that said 'And that's just the beginning.' Almost as though it was intended, **sweeteangel****1's** look effectively scared off anyone in the surrounding area, making passerbyers hurriedly leave the area fearing for their safety. It was once said that **sweeteangel****1's** looks did this to people who didn't know her, and had people who _did_ know her contemplating suicide when it was directed at them.

Momentarily taken aback by **sweeteangel****1's** expression, and extremely grateful that she was not the target of their plot, it took a moment for **TwilightDork** to find a suitable reply.

"Well....," began **TwilightDork **as she climbed into the driver's side of their white convertible VW Bug, but she was cut off by **sweeteangel****1**.

"Hey!" She yelled.

"What?" **TwilightDork** asked, staring at her blankly. She rolled her eyes when she realized what **sweeteangel****1** was griping about.

**sweeteangel****1** knew that she didn't really have to tell **TwilightDork **what she wanted, for the two friends were so close that they could practically read each other's minds, but she felt like saying it anyways. "I wanted to drive."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Fae." **TwilightDork**, ever the practical one, was quick to point out. "I don't think that you could be deemed 'sober' in your current state. You're too drunk on mischief to think clearly."

"Pleeeeeeaaaaaassssee." **sweeteangel****1** whined, pouting.

"Fine." **TwilightDork** sighed, exasperated. She handed over the keys, getting into the passenger's seat and watching **sweeteangel****1** warily.

**sweeteangel****1** shook her head at her friend's antics, and decided to scare her a bit. _Just for fun_, she thought, but she knew that the real reason was that she wanted to get **TwilightDork** back from her earlier comments about how she wasn't a 'designated driver.'

"Fae....." **TwilightDork **said some 3 minutes later, even more wary now, as she had realized that they were going in the opposite direction of their destination.

"Yes Becky?" **sweeteangel****1** replied sweetly.

"Where are we going?"

**sweeteangel****1** just smirked as they pulled into the almost-deserted Wal-Mart parking lot. She smiled to herself when she noticed that there were no people milling around, only a few cars, and that the parking lot was still very icy from their recent snow. _Perfect._

It was when she saw the smirk that **TwilightDork** finally realized what 1 planned on doing. "Look," she said frantically, trying to persuade **sweeteangel****1** from doing something that would surely kill them both, "I know that you have your emo bouts, but surely you're not _suicidal_. Please Fae, have some sense! We're in a _convertible_ for goodness sake!"

"Too late." And with that, **sweeteangel****1** started doing doughnuts in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot, driving so fast and with such insane twists and turns that you would wonder how she did so without puking.

"P-pl-please!" **TwilightDork **begged, unable to escape the laughter that threatened to shake her out of the writhing car.

"No can do!" **sweeteangel****1** yelled, laughing, as she rounded another turn. There was a lull in conversation as **sweeteangel****1** kept spinning the car, all the while making precariously sharp turns and coming dangerously close to the few parked cars.

Suddenly, at the top of her lungs, **TwilightDork **yelled "WE'RE GONNA CRASH!!!!!!"

"Oh.... crap." **sweeteangel****1** whispered when she realized that crashing was, in fact, inevitable. She had jerked the wheel too hard on a spin, and they were now barreling headfirst into an oncoming car.

**TwilightDork** started screaming, and **sweeteangel****1** quickly figured out a plan.

"0.03" **sweeteangel****1** started counting.

"0.02" She said, bracing herself.

"0.01" She quickly swerved at the last moment, timing it just perfectly for the momentum to keep them from hitting the car.

"And that," **sweeteangel****1** said after she had their car parked safely in one of the parking slots, and was carefully monitoring the shell-shocked **TwilightDork **to make sure she didn't have a panic attack, "is why they recruited me to the CIA."

**TwilightDork** just muttered something under her breath about 'impractical daredevils' and made **sweeteangel****1** promise not to try anything else the rest of the way to the psychiatric hospital.

"Of course." **sweeteangel****1** agreed, specifically noting that she mentioned nothing about the way home.

They made it to the psychiatric ward without further incident, and were not surprised to that they were 20 minutes late.

"Next time, I'm driving." **TwilightDork** said firmly, still slightly shaken from the doughnut incident.

"Hey! It's not my fault that you insulted my driving capabilities! And besides, we're never going to set foot in here again after today, so there isn't going to _be_ a next time." **sweeteangel****1** retorted.

**TwilightDork** was about to no doubt give a witty reply, but was unable to seeing as how they had reached the receptionist's desk.

"Hello." **sweeteangel****1** smiled sweetly at the lady behind the counter, a sign that **TwilightDork** usually took to mean as 'run.'

"We're here for an appointment with Dr. Palmer, his 2:30's."

"Room 113, down the hall and to the left." The lady replied, barely glancing at us before she went back to typing on her computer, her gum smacking so loud that it echoed off the walls.

"Thanks." **sweeteangel****1** smiled sweetly again, and **TwilightDork **almost chanced a searching glance around for terrorists, or people from the underground cult that she had discovered a short time ago.

Giggling at the gigantic pile of feathers that littered the ground in the waiting room, the girls made their way to room 113, and knocked softly on the door.

"Come in! Come in!" An overly cheery male voice called from inside the room. They gave each other a wary sideways glance, and reassured themselves before stepping into the door.

"Oh, look! My 2:30's showed up! I was worried you weren't going to make it!" Said a man with a big smile who looked like he should be on a cover of a magazine, holding a big sign that said 'Stereotypical American Father.' Both girls acknowledged the fact that things had just gotten a lot more interesting.

"So," said Dr. Palmer, after **TwilightDork** had taken a seat in the gigantic armchair the farthest away from the shrink, and **sweeteangel****1** had dramatically lain down on the chaise lounge in front of the couch he was sitting on, "let's talk about why you're here."

**sweeteangel****1** rolled her eyes, and **TwilightDork** put on her 'You have _got_ to be kidding me' face. Dr. Palmer still looked optimistic.

"Fae and Rebecca, isn't it? Well--" The psychiatrist was abruptly cut off by **sweeteangel****1.**

"You must have the wrong folder, Doctor." **sweeteangel****1** stated, sitting up. "We're Erin and Shaunee, not Fae and Rebecca."

"But, it says here," he said, pointing at the folder, "'Rebecca Washington and Fae Williams, 2:30pm.'"

"Yes," said **TwilightDork**, piping up, "_Shaunee_ Washington and _Erin_ Williams."

"They must've just gotten our names confused with somebody else's,"** sweeteangel****1** said decisively.

"But there aren't any Erin's or Shaunee's scheduled at all this week!" He exclaimed, trying futilely not to make a fool of himself. But when **TwilightDork** and **sweeteangel1** are involved, _nobody_ gets to keep their dignity.

"I'm sorry sir, but your receptionist must have written down the wrong names." **TwilightDork** said solemnly.

"She doesn't seem too bright." **sweeteangel****1** added, stage whispering behind her hand.

Dr. Palmer looked startled, and just a little bit nervous, apparently finally catching onto **sweeteangel****1's** 'Fear me, for I will kill you in your sleep' vibe, and **TwilightDork's** 'I am a pyromaniac, touch me, and get burned by my uncontrolled hyperness' personality.

"I sincerely apologize for the mix-up, _Erin and Shaunee_. I'll have to have a chat with my receptionist."

But neither of them were really paying attention; **sweeteangel****1** was playing with her hair, apparently finding that, at the moment, acting blonde was more interesting than torturing the psychiatrist, and **TwilightDork** was thinking of the new and improved version of the flamethrower that they had out in the black-market.

"Well," the shrink cleared his throat unceremoniously, "where were we. Oh! That's right, we were talking about your reasons for being here. So, would anyone like to volunteer to answer the question?"

**sweeteangel****1** raised her hand.

"Oh, good! Why don't you start. Erin, why do you think you're here?" Dr. Palmer asked eagerly.

"We're here," **sweeteangel****1** began, "because our landlord's an ass."

**TwilightDork** took one look at **sweeteangel****1's** face and burst out laughing.

"You go, twin." And they high-fived.

Dr. Palmer looked more than a little bewildered. "I'm sure that there's _another_ reason that you're here." He stated carefully."Mr. Newton said that the other people on your floor were complaining about the late hours you would come in at, and the fact that you girls always acted," he gulped, "slightly insane whenever anyone saw you. So much to the point that he called me, and asked me to make sure that you were okay."

**TwilightDork** snorted.

"I still say it's because he's an ass." **sweeteangel****1** muttered.

"Well, okay, lets address the first issue. Why is it that you girls keep such odd hours?" Dr. Palmer looked pleading.

"Our jobs." They said in unison.

The psychiatrist looked slightly shocked, obviously expecting a different answer. Did he honestly expect them to come right out and admit that they were doing slightly insane, and definitely not moral things in the late hours of the night?

"Ummm....okay, so, what do you do for a living Shaunee?"

**TwilightDork** looked frantic, but then quickly composed herself and became calculating. "I work with Erin." She said at last.

"Oh, so you two work together, that must be nice. I can tell that you're very close. So, Erin, what's your job?"

**sweeteangel****1** didn't have any hesitation. "I'm an actress." She replied promptly, "Shaunee and I work for the same company, though we don't always work directly together because we specialize in different areas. Shaunee is the head of the prop division."

"Wow, that must be exciting. What company do you guys work for?"

Now _that_ threw 1 off. "Uhhhh...." she trailed off.

"Syah." Said TwilghtDork, saving the day.

"Yeah, Syah." **sweeteangel****1** smirked a little bit, like Dr. Palmer was missing out on an inside joke.

He looked confused, but eventually shrugged it off, telling himself that there was no use in trying to figure these girls out anyway."Well, now that we have the first part diagnosed, let's move onto the second: Exactly _how_ do you girls act in public?"

********************************************************

One hour, two diagnostics, three burnt-carpet spots, and a broken lamp later, **TwilightDork** and **sweeteangel****1** walked out of the psychiatric ward.

"I can't believe he thinks that I'm a pyromaniac! I mean, come on, ME?!? What about you?" **TwilightDork** grumbled.

**sweeteangel****1** raised her eyebrows at **TwilightDork**. "I think he would consider pyromania one of my multiple personalities, Becky."

"You did _lay_ on the bi-polarity a bit _too_ much, Fae. You could only expect the guy to diagnose you with Multiple Personality Disorder with the way you were acting." **TwilightDork** responded scathingly. "Though it was quite funny when you took on the personality of a shrink, and kept throwing his questions right back at him. I think you make a better psychologist than he does, actually."

"Oh, being told that I had MPD was no surprise. I've always known _that_. Psssh! It comes with the job. What I didn't know was that my MPD is 'potentially harmful to myself and others if I cannot control my sudden shift in mood and demeanor'" **sweeteangel****1** said, mimicking Dr. Palmer's voice.

**TwilightDork** snickered.

"But, seriously, pyromania? I _never_ would have guessed that. _Especially_ not with that obsession for flamethrowers you have." She said sarcastically. "I'm hardly in shock. But you did scare him well. The look on his face when you pulled out that mini-flamethrower? Priceless."

**TwilightDork** sighed and said, "Well, I'm certainly never going back there again."

"I'm in total agreement with you twin," said **sweeteangel****1** as she climbed into the driver's seat of their VW bug. "Screw weekly sessions, I've got TCI's to stalk."

"And I've got government-produced weapons to manage." Chimed in **TwilightDork.**

With that, the two best friends drove the long trek back to their apartment, to wait for more adventures to head their way.

And as the sped off, you could faintly hear their conversation......

"Hey Fae?"

"Yeah Becky?"

"Wanna go blackmail Mike Newton?"

"YES!!! Let's go! I know the perfect......"

And then they disappeared into the night.


	2. Cults will rule the world!

"I _swear_, if I ever have to look at another police officer I'll....." **TwilightDork** trailed of suggestively, forming a fist and reaching back to her pocket as if to pull out her mini-flamethrowers as they walked out of the police station.

**sweeteangel1** sighed. "Yes, Becky. I _absolutely_ understand," she replied impatiently.

"I mean, _come on, _they act like hijacking a plane is a _federal crime _or something! What's the difference between Alaska and Florida, anyway? Alaska has _penguins!"_ **TwilightDork** continued.

"Yeah," **sweeteangel1** mocked sarcastically, "who _wouldn't_ want to see some penguins in exchange for freezing to death? And technically it _is _a crime. We just got off the hook from being apart of the CIA."

"EXACTLY!" **TwilightDork** exclaimed rather loudly. "See what I mean, Fae? They're just _so _inconsid-"

**sweeteangel1** covered **TwilightDork's** mouth, halting her in the middle of her sentence. "Will you just _shut up _already?" she shrieked, removing her hand from **TwilightDork's** mouth.

"Well, geez, Fae, what's got you on the other side of the rainbow?" **TwilightDork** said, her voice laced with confusion.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because of the fact you've been going on about this for the past _ten minutes!"_ sweeteangel1 remarked hotly, ignoring **TwilightDork's** phrase that, once again, nobody understood. "Get over it!"

**TwilightDork** huffed in astonishment. "Well, _I _thought it was funny," she muttered.

"Yeah, well, the police never thinks it's as funny as we do," **sweeteangel1** said thoughtfully. Giving **TwilightDork** a side-ways glance, she added, "But it _was_ pretty hilarious. Imagine the look on all of their faces when they land to find themselves 50 degrees cooler than they planned!" Both girls burst out laughing at the mental picture.

"Or when-"

**TwilightDork's** voice was cut off by a deep voice booming, surprisingly quietly, "Hello, girls," directly in front of them.

"Why does everyone feel the need to interrupt me today?" **TwilightDork** murmured, before getting nudged in the stomach with **sweeteangel1's** elbow.

**sweeteangel1** and **TwilightDork** slowly lifted their heads up to see a small group of men staring them down.

"Those are some big, bald men," **sweeteangel1** stage whispered to **TwilightDork**.

"Seriously. How did we miss that?" **TwilightDork** replied in the same technique, but with a much less promising effect.

After about a two-minute stare-down, **TwilightDork's** blank, **sweeteangel1's** menacing, and the suit dudes' strangely calculating, one of the guys in the back suddenly, and quite randomly, squealed, "HONEY!" and pulled **sweeteangel1** into a giant bear hug.

**TwilightDork**, watching his one-sided exchange and **sweeteangel1's** equal look of shock and disgust, debated about either screaming for help or laughing hysterically. Of course, being **TwilightDork**, the latter won as she clutched her sides in euphoria.

**sweeteangel1**, glaring heatedly at **TwilightDork's** head, commented, "Uh, eww," in complete revulsion.

**sweeteangel1**, becoming impatient, pulled her mini-taser out of her purse and shocked the guy squeezing her. "Hey, dude. Ya mind?" she snapped.

The guy gently let her down and, looking hurt, stumbled back to his place while sniffling. The guy beside him looked at him and rolled his eyes. The leader, still staring intently at the girls, said sternly, "Harold, don't roll your eyes."

**TwilightDork** and **sweeteangel1**, glancing at each other, shivered in unison.

**sweeteangel1**, deciding to start the conversation, narrowed her eyes and said to them, "Okay, who the crap are you, and what do you want?"

"Who are we?" the guy in front, supposedly the leader, answered. "Those are interesting questions. I must have our name remain confidential, but what I can tell you is that our organization was formed to improve the well being of our world. Our current mission is to perfect the art of choosing a spouse for the male or female, in the way of an arranged marriage. Eventually creating perfect harmony within each individual family. As such, you are the first young ladies to be chosen for this great honor, as you can tell from Harold's quite optimistic welcoming," the guy chuckled.

**TwilightDork**, seeing where this was going, replied, "So, basically, you're an evil cult out to create some sort of freakin' utopia. Yeah, we've heard it before," she said knowingly.

**sweeteangel1**, having been silent up until then, squealed, "OMG! I LOVE arranged marriages!"

"You do?" all the men cried in unison.

"Of course!" she exclaimed.

**TwilightDork** stared at her. "You're insane."

"Of course I am, but what does that have to do with the awesomeness of arranged marriages?" **sweeteangel1** countered.

**TwilightDork** thought for a moment before shrugging and saying, "I don't know."

**sweeteangel1** patted **TwilightDork's** shoulder soothingly. "It's okay, Twin. We all have those moments."

"So you'll come with us?" the one called Harold said excitedly.

"No," **sweeteangel1** replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why would we?"

"Uhh, but you just said......" Harold trailed off, puzzled.

"Yeah, Fae, I agree with bald dude. You just said you loved arranged marriages. So why should you be opposed to them? That just makes _no _sense," **TwilightDork **said as well.

**sweeteangel1** sighed tiredly. "Yeah, but you people are _freaks," _she explained.

"On that note," the leader said in finality. "Back to business. Will you or will you not come with us willingly? Just know, no matter what, you will come with us. Even if we have to force you to." His eyes seemed to glint with the danger.

**sweeteangel1** and **TwilightDork** stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing simultaneously.

Mr. Leader, unwavered, continued, "Very well. Get 'em boys." He motioned his henchmen forward with his hands.

The girls eyes widened, and they froze momentarily. Snapping back into action, **sweeteangel1** pulled out her taser with **TwilightDork's** flamethrower following closely afterwards.

Just as quickly, the cult men pulled out guns. Big guns.

"Crap," **TwilightDork** muttered, noting the fact that her flamethrower wouldn't be able to go half as speedily as those guns, with even less a chance for **sweeteangel1's** taser.

The cult began to close in fast, wrapping around the girls in a close circle. Backing up slowly, the girls responded nervously with wide eyes and false laughs.

"C'mon, guys," **sweeteangel1** said desperately. "Why does it have to be us? I hear Jessica Stanley is looking for a way out of her abusive relationship with Mike Newton. Given her qualities, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help you."

"Ah, but we want _you, _you see. Not some girl who doesn't know the difference between M3P players and High School Musical. I don't think so," Mr. Leader replied.

"It's an M_P_3 player," **TwilightDork** muttered, growing more frustrated by the minute.

The cult continued closing in ruthlessly.

But, just as all hope was lost, every head swiveled up at a sound erupting from the sky. Suddenly, a voice shouted, "Have no fear! F-Nick is here!"

If you were to have bothered looking at **TwilightDork** and **sweeteangel1's** face at the time of this occurrence, instead of at the seemingly winged kid swooping down from the clouds, you would have observed the look of knowing and equal awe on them. You would have also realized it was best to run away by their smirks, as the evil bald men of doom would have been wise to do at that precise moment. Of course, who would look at two crazy girls faces when a mutant bird kid was in their midst?

'Fnick' landed with a sweeping gesture. In the process of this moment, the men had made a slight gap in their circle, which **TwilightDork** took as an excellent opportunity to squeal, and possibly damage several bald guys eardrums, "OH MY FLOCK! IT'S FANG!" Directly after, she raced towards Fnick, now known as Fang, and tackled him to the ground.

**sweeteangel1** rolled her eyes. "You are _such _a fangirl, Twin," she muttered.

The cult members, seeing this exchange, backed away slowly. "Uh, we're just going to go now. We _definitely _don't do crazed psychos," Mr. Leader said, and they all scurried off, disappearing into the horizon.

"What was that all about?" **TwilightDork** said, having gotten off the partially shocked Fang.

"I have no idea, Becky, no idea," **sweeteangel1** replied, shaking her head in wonder.

"Huh," **TwilightDork** responded, nodding her head with still no clarification as to what their problem was. "Oh well. Want to go blow something up?"

Shrugging, **sweeteangel1** replied, "Sure. Why not?"

And the two girls walked off, completely forgetting about the transfixed bird-kid still lying in the street.....


	3. Surveys Statistics and Being Sadistic P1

**TwilightDork and sweeteangel1 here!**

**Just to clear things up 'sweeteangel1' is the random person's alibi, but TwilightDork's computer doesn't like writing names that begin with 'random.' and end with 'randomnesselfsandfun1'**

**So Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3: Surveys, Statistics, and Being Sadistic (Part 1)**

**TwilightDork **hummed as she unlocked the door and stepped into their apartment. Even though it was about two o'clock in the morning, and she had been out rapping different versions of the song 'O Canada' in a public airport with **sweeteangel1 **before her friend had to leave, and then had proceeded to finish unloading the new shipment of _very _heavy weapons; **TwilightDork **didn't feel the least bit tired. She blamed this on **sweeteangel1**'s incredibly odd sleeping patterns, and her ability to repress the urge to sleep through exercising constantly and drinking _lots _of coffee.

Just as she was wondering exactly _when _ the last time **sweeteangel1 **slept was, **TwilightDork **walked in on the aforementioned friend. **Sweeteangel1 **was sitting in the middle of the floor of their apartment, surrounded by papers and looking intently at something encased in a manila folder, her long blonde hair hiding her expression.

**TwilightDork **immediately realized what was going on, and let out a squeal of excitement. "OOOH! Did you get a new Assignment?" She asked eagerly.

**Sweeteangel1 **looked up from what she was reading, and you could see an evil gleam in her eye. "Yes." She replied calmly, seeming more composed at the prospect of her Assignment.

"Well, don't just leave me wondering! What's it about?!?" Shrilled **TwilightDork.**

**Sweeteangel1**, being able to contain it no longer, grinned widely and started bouncing up and down. "The topic is 'Gathering Information,'" She sang. "It says here that you may obtain information through observing, surveying, breaking and entering, or any other means that you would prefer. It also states that you can gather information of your choice, as long as it's information that you don't already otherwise obtain."

**TwilightDork**, noticing the sparkle in **sweeteangel1**'s eyes, slowly felt a smirk creeping onto her face. "Why do I have the sudden feeling that this 'Gathering Information' involves something potentially illegal?" She asked with a hopeful expression.

"Becky," Said **sweeteangel1**, ignoring her assumptive question, "how fast can you get me a lie detector?"

* * *

"Wow Fae," Said **TwilightDork**, reading the computer screen over her shoulder, "You really went all the way. I didn't think you had it in you." Her voice came out somewhat nervously.

"THIS IS GOING TO BE EVEN MORE AWESOME THAN I ANTICIPATED" **TwilightDork **finished.

"Thanks. You know me, when it comes to Assignments, I don't do things half-way." Stated **sweeteangel1**, smiling, as she finished typing. "Now come on. I want to print these out and get them hung as soon as possible. Help me superglue them to stop signs and people's windshields?"

"You know it!" Gushed **TwilightDork **as they grabbed the printed papers and headed out the door.

But, **sweeteangel1**, in the process of printing, had forgotten to shut down her computer; leaving the document that she was typing up in full view of the world. It went something like this:

**Hey! You there!**

Yes you!

Are you a guy in between the ages of 16 and 35?

Really?

Well, how would you feel about helping out two college girls with a project of theirs, huh?

What you have to do? Oh, that's easy! You just have to live with them for a week!

Yes, that's all. Yes, it's really that easy.

Oh, who are these girls, you ask? Why, they're Rebecca Washington and Fae Williams of course! Who else would put up flyers all around town just to get a guy to live with them for a week?

Yes, they are those crazy blonde college girls.

Yes, I do know that those girls are quite a pair. Very unique.

So, are you interested? REALLY? That's wonderful!

All you have to do is come by apartment 475 tomorrow at noon to be interviewed and potentially picked to be these girl's new roommate for the next 7 days.

Of course you can bring your friends! The more the merrier!

No, you cannot take this flyer to show them. We need to get the word out to the rest of the world!

Yep! Just be at apartment 475 by noon and you'll be fine.

No, you don't need to dress up. You're not taking them out on a date, you're being interviewed.

The questions they'll ask you? Oh, you know, the basics. They just need to know that you'll be a good roommate.

Exactly _how _you'll be helping them by being their roomate? Why, just your presence helps, silly! They're taking a Sociology class. They just need your company!

You're coming? Great! Don't forget, apartment 475 at noon.

**We can't **_**wait **_**to see you there!**

* * *

_Ding-dong._

"Becky!" **Sweeteangel1** called from under the couch. "Can you get the door? I've almost got everything ready. I just have to put my fairy wand into place and straighten out the Question Clipboard. I'll be done in a sec."

"Of course." Called **TwilightDork **back, approaching the door. She took a deep breath and braced herself for what she was about to face; and then slowly opened the door.

What she saw shocked her. There were about twenty guys total, all of them lined up in front of their apartment. She felt her jaw touch the ground, and idly registered that she was swaying back and forth, most likely at the brink of fainting. "U-uh-uhhh..." She stuttered incoherently**.**

**Sweeteangel1** came up behind her and put her hand on **TwilightDork**'s shoulder, steadying her, while rolling her eyes at her friend's antics. "Great! We got an awesome turnout!" said **sweeteangel1 **brightly, at the same time mentally laughing at **TwilightDork**.

"Well, let's let the first one in**." sweeteangel1** said helpfully as **TwilightDork **continued to gape at the large number of guys. **Sweeteangel1 **sighed and rolled her eyes again, pushing past **TwilightDork **to invite in the first person in line. He was tall and handsome, but had an unattractive arrogance about him. The girls shared a look, recognizing trouble when they saw it. The guy breezed into the room, not bothering to wait for an invitation to sit down before plopping onto the couch; his body stretched out on it without a care for formalities.

**Sweeteangel1 **cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at him. "_I _was going to sit there." She said, somewhat antagonistically. **TwilightDork **seemed to be trying to repress a laugh, eyeing the strange visitor with unabashed enjoyment at his ignorance. Despite her efforts, a small grin slipped out as the pair continued to dispute.

"Well, I _am _the guest." Said the teen pompously while shrugging in nonchalance. He seemed unaffected by **sweeteangel1**'s death glare, choosing, instead, to ignore it. **Sweeteangel1**, ever the perceptive one, couldn't help but send out an irony-filled thought to **TwilightDork**. _Strike one_, she thought, sensing that this would be a quick interview.

Choosing to overlook the stranger's stubborn attitude, **sweeteangel1 **decided to take matters of disposal into her own hands. But first, she gave the poor boy one last chance. "Move." she demanded; her eyes clearly stating that she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"Baby," started the candidate "I can think of some _much _better expressions than glares for your pretty blue eyes; expressions that _I _have the expertise to put in them." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

**Sweeteangel1**, correctly interpreting his implications, if badly worded, was _very _much pissed off at this pompous ass. She had many reasons for her anger, but, being the actress that she is, let no emotion show on her face. She felt that some of her reasons, however, had the right to be voiced. And so, **sweeteangel1 **preceded to do what **sweeteangel1 **is known for doing in these situations: she set him straight. Of course, this was done in the typical, violent, humiliating, **sweeteangel1 **fashion.

"First of all," she walked over to him, standing over his sprawled-out form, seething, "my eyes are _green_, as you would know if you stopped thinking about yourself long enough to notice. _Second _of all," she spat menacingly, "I am _not _your baby, no matter how much you wish I was. And _third _of all," her hands were squeezing the tops of his arms now, "_get off my couch_." She growled, while throwing him off the sofa. There was an audible '_clunk_' as his body hit the wall.

**Sweeteangel1** smiled and fell down onto the couch in one fluid moment, crossing her legs and smoothing out her skirt with a contented look on her face. At this **TwilightDork **actually _did _burst out laughing, being a silent observer to the entire spectacle. She could have warned the jerk not to mess with **sweeteangel1**.

"Dayumn." Said aforementioned jerk incredulously, and somewhat dizzily. "Blondie's _strong_."

The topic of his revelation rolled her eyes, that were narrowed somewhat, no doubt at being called 'Blondie', and sent him a look that said 'No duh, imbecile.' **TwilightDork **joined in to the idiot-mocking, and shot him an identical expression of disdain. Needless to say, the girls' new victim was somewhat hesitant as he picked himself up off the floor and rubbed his sore arms, shifting awkwardly as he waited for an invitation to sit down. **TwilightDork**, somewhat less of a sadist than her 'twin', was glad that he had learned.

Of course, **sweeteangel1**, who never missed an opportunity to make someone squirm, waited a few painstakingly tense moments before telling their guest that he was welcome to the floor.

"Ugh." He grunted, grimacing, as he lowered himself onto thier hardwood floor, smart enough not to voice any complaints about the seating arrangements. **TwilightDork **quickly took her appropriate seat next to **sweeteangel1** and waited eagerly for the interrogation to begin.

"Name." said **sweetangel1 **shortly, apparently deciding not to waste valuable breath on the scumbag.

"Drew Thomas." said the subject, his smug demeanor returning. He didn't seem the least bit deterred by **sweeteangel1**'s cold attitude, nor the events that had recently transpired between them, and went on to add, "Why, what's yours?"

_Strike Two_, thought **TwilightDork **as her roommate replied with the remark that _they _would be the ones asking the questions. There was an undertone of a threat in her scathing words, almost daring him to not cooperate. **TwilightDork **watched as she regarded him calculatingly, evaluating. Once she was satisfied that she would be met with little resistance, if any, she brushed her hair over her shoulder, signaling that it was okay for **TwilightDork **to move on to the next question.

The quieter of the friends quickly scanned the clipboard on her lap, finding a question for the visitor almost immediately.

"What's your stand on cheerleader world hunger?" said the now-chipper brunette.

Drew looked momentarily taken aback, a confused look on his face.

"Uhhhhh...." he stated blankly.

He suddenly, and very randomly, had a burst of intuition, and decided on an appropriate thing to say. He opened his mouth to start, before abruptly stopping and closing it. He then hesitantly made to start speaking again, before reconsidering, and keeping quiet. Finally, having thought up the most cunning thing that he could think of, responded with "I don't understand the question?"

**TwilightDork **buried her face in her hands, whether in exasperation or mirth, you couldn't quite tell. **Sweeteangel1**, though, answered his almost-question, speaking slowly as if to a young child.

"Cheerleaders," she began, enunciating each syllable, "are hungry. A lot of them. It's a _di-sea-se,_" she said with wide eyes, as if not expecting him to understand the word. "What do you think about this?"

"Ummmm.....," His words would have seemed contemplating if it weren't for the stupid expression on his face "They should go out to dinner more often."

**TwilightDork**, her head temporarily out of her palms, shot **sweeteangel1 **a 'What the heck?!?' look, while **sweeteangel1 **just sighed deeply and shook her head.

"Okay, next question." said **TwilightDork **tiredly.

**Sweeteangel1 **received the silent message that it was her turn to ask the question, and got a mischievous smirk on her face, while her eyes lit up the way that they do before she does something particularly funny. **TwilightDork **leaned forward slightly, knowing that whatever her friend was planning, it was going to be good.

"What's the best quality of a blonde?" asked the blonde, twirling her hair, and biting her lip flirtily. She even let out a shy smile.

Of course, **TwilightDork **knew **sweeteangel1 **well enough to know that at times, she could be a very deep, psychological person, especially when it came to other people. She found it fun to psychoanalyze common stereotypes, a place where her Multiple Personality Disorder came in handy. It helped her see many different points of view, since most of her alters were some form of stereotype; she was able to determine fairly easily what different people thought about different issues and why, and also, the common characteristics, personality or otherwise, of some very famous stereotypes. The Blonde stereotype was one of her favorites, especially because she had the ability to pull off the look perfectly. She also had the acting skills to pull off the personality. **TwilightDork **had learned a lot about the personality of the Common Blonde stereotype, seeing as she had known her best friend for a long time. She knew that there were many answers to the question; all depending on your point of view. The Common Blonde was pretty, therefore making her popular, therefore making her pay less attention to her academics and more attention to her social life. Another Common Blonde characteristic was that she was confident, because of all the social attention she got. There were also plenty of stereotypical Blonde spin-offs, like the 'Smarty' and the 'Perfect and Put Together'. There was also the 'Angel' blonde, each offshoot having it's own unique common characteristics. For instance, the 'Smarties' are the smart blondes who are usually relatively hostile towards the Common Blonde for giving them a bad name, while the 'Perfect and Put Together' blonde is the well-rounded prep who is pretty, works hard, and has a balanced social life as well as above-average grades, and is relatively good at sports. The 'Perfect and Put Together' blonde is often referred to as a 'Goody-Two Shoes' even though being blonde isn't necessarily a stereotypical quality of the title. The 'Angel' was by far one of the most fun stereotypical blonde personalities that **sweeteangel1 **has; a light shade of blonde, more aqua-blue eyes, less catty than the Common Blonde, shy, and more prone to getting away with things because of their wide innocent eyes and long lashes that they are so skilled at batting. Yes, **TwilightDork **was _very _much looking forward to Mr. Thomas's answer to **sweeteangel1**'s question.

While **TwilightDork **was contemplating all the answers that Drew could give, Drew, on the other hand, was daydreaming of _his _favorite thing about blondes. **Sweeteangel1**, noticing that nobody was actually paying attention, was quickly getting frustrated, and decided to bring them back to reality.

"Hello?! Answer the question, please!" she snapped, losing the flirty blonde facade.

"Wha....?" said Drew, still partially out of it. At the killer glare from **sweeteangel1**, he quickly composed himself, and answered the question.

"Oh. Well, they're hott, duh." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

_Strike Three_, The 'twins' thought together.

"OUT!" shrilled **TwilightDork**, as **sweeteangel1 **angrily pushed the guest out the door. She made sure to slam it in his face, hopefully injuring him in some way, form, or fashion, before waiting a moment to open it and usher the next candidate in.

**END PART 1**

* * *

**So, did you like it? I hope you did! This chapter will be in two or three parts--it's going to be pretty long. There were just to many fictional characters to interrogate in one chapter, so we decided to split it into parts. Virtual Cookies to anyone to knows who Drew Thomas is, hope you're enjoying SOMHL 4!!!**

**Anyways, plenty of fictional-character interrogations in part 2 of the update....and you also find out why sweeteangel1 wanted a lie detector and a fairy wand!**

**Also, we thought that we might do it in parts because sweeteangel1 has been having some family...issues, and she typed up half of this chapter a long time ago, but didn't get to finish it until now, so she thought you might want **_**something **_**after such a long time.**

**We can't guarantee that Part 2 will be up soon, but if you're lucky we'll get it out to you guys this weekend!**

**Deviously Yours,**

**TwilightDork and sweeteangel1**


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